


Blue (Da Ba Dee)

by distantglory



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Some Swearing, thinly-veiled references to reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantglory/pseuds/distantglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Kadan,” said Bull, in a tone of deep mistrust. “That thing is a demon.”</p><p>“Nonsense,” said Dorian airily. “It’s <i>clearly</i> an exotic dog.”</p><p>“No. I’m fairly certain that it’s an abomination, come from the Fade to murder us all.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue (Da Ba Dee)

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on a 'conversation' I had with my girlfriend after seeing [certain creatures](http://cat-in-the-closet.tumblr.com/post/142599214981/zombie-hip-hop-ill-bet-you-want-one-as-a-pet) from the upcoming Final Fantasy XV. I'm Iron Bull; she's Dorian. (Sorry, dear, I couldn't work in your impromptu performance of the song.)

“Crap.”

“Something wrong, amatus?” enquired Dorian, leaning back from the kitchen sink so that he could sight Bull sitting on the couch. The Qunari’s posture was telling. When relaxed, Bull liked to sprawl—he’d balance his laptop on knee (less precarious a position than it would be for most, given the size of his legs) and fling one arm over the back of the sofa. Sometimes he liked to kick one leg up onto the couch as well, leaving nowhere for Dorian to sit. When Dorian complained, Bull would chuckle and insist that there was always a place for Dorian to sit—and then gesture to his lap.

More often than not, when Dorian did end up sitting there, _sitting_ was not the only thing going on.

But at the moment, Bull had both feet on the ground and both arms tucked into his sides. His shoulders were a little tense—not hunched, that was too defensive a term—but he certainly wasn’t relaxed.

“It’s nothing,” he said, in a tone that entirely failed to convince. Dorian put down the plate he’d been drying—usually, Bull cooked and he cleaned, an effective division of labour that Dorian insisted saved both their crockery and their tastebuds from horrible deaths—and sauntered over.

“And what variety of _nothing_ is bothering you tonight?”

Bull sighed, and sat back so that Dorian could see his screen. The dark blue background told Dorian that his lover was on Jumblr again—one of his favourite ways to wind down at the end of a long day. “Sorry, kadan. There must have been another announcement for that new Last Legend game. It’s all over my dash.” To demonstrate, he prodded the spacebar. Dorian leaned on Bull’s shoulder to get a good look. Sure enough, the same gifsets and screenshots scrolled by.

“Lovely graphics,” commented Dorian.

“It’s top-notch detail, I’ll give them that,” said Bull. “But even the best view gets a little boring if repeated too often.” He continued to prod the button, searching for something different.

“You’ve never had any complaints about me,” commented Dorian lightly.

Bull didn’t look up. “That’s different. You’ve always got something new up your sleeve.”

Dorian shifted his position slightly so that he could fold his arms on Bull’s shoulders for more stable support. “Can’t you blacklist it?”

Bull grunted. “Half these bastards aren’t tagging.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just a little annoyed. I keep thinking that after all this waiting, this game can’t possibly be worth the hype—but I seem to be in the minority there.”

“A Tal-Vashoth ex-Ben-Hassrath, in the minority? Shocking.”

“Low blow, kadan. Low blow.”

“I am very good at that.” Dorian lightly kissed the tip of Bull’s right ear. “Come now, close the computer. It will have blown over by morning.”

“You’re right,” said Bull. “I’ll come help you—what the _fuck_ is that?”

Dorian had never heard quite that note of baffled horror in Bull’s tone. He leaned over his lover’s shoulder for a better look at the laptop screen—currently showing a gifset depicting…

“Maker,” said Dorian, in a hushed voice. “It’s _adorable._ ”

Bull twisted, his horns missing the top of Dorian’s head by less than an inch. “What?”

“It’s _adorable!_ ” repeated Dorian, reaching for the screen, as though he could reach through it and touch the precious thing. “Don’t you just want to boop its nose?”

Bull looked back at the screen, as though he might see something different. The creature in question was taller than the character beside it (doubtless included for scale), with a long, thin, snarl-wrinkled snout and an even longer and thinner tongue that lolled most of the way to the ground. It had an impressive—though perhaps somewhat impractical—collection of teeth, curving upwards and downwards in a deadly fringe, matched by the enormous sickle curve of claws on its front paws.

And it was a gorgeous shade of peacock blue.

Dorian wanted one.

“Kadan,” said Bull, in a tone of deep mistrust. “That _thing_ is a demon.”

“Nonsense,” said Dorian airily. “It’s _clearly_ an exotic dog.”

“No. I’m fairly certain that it’s an abomination, come from the Fade to murder us all.”

“Oh, amatus.” Dorian tore his gaze from his future pet and smiled beatifically up into the face of his lover. “I know a demon when I see one, and this isn’t one! No demon was ever so gorgeous.” He turned back to the screen, and tapped it. “Come, it clearly isn’t an enemy. That is the game’s protagonist, is it not? And nary a weapon in sight.”

“Probably doesn’t want to make it mad,” retorted Bull. “Look at how he’s standing. Does that look relaxed to you?”

“Preparing to mount, perhaps. I know I’d choose this beautiful creature over those oversized chickens they usually include. Look at that colour! Much less likely to send one recoiling than that dreadful yellow.” He squinted at Bull. “Besides, aren’t you the man who shouted—what was it?—‘I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking of this with respect’?—while a dragon was breathing fire at him?”

“ _Great_ respect. While thinking of this with _great_ respect. That’s important.”

“Ah, my mistake. Maker forbid that I forget that intensifier.”

“See that you don’t.”

They managed to hold one another’s gaze for a full ten seconds before they broke. Bull clapped the laptop shut to prevent it from falling off his knee as he shook with laughter. Dorian leaned helplessly on his shoulder. His stomach hurt by the time they managed to stop—every time that one of them managed to catch their breath, some snort from the other would set them off again. No doubt their neighbours thought that they had lost their minds. Dorian didn’t care in the slightest.

“You’re a strange person, kadan,” said Bull, single eye crinkled with amusement.

Dorian had to stifle another chuckle. “Oh, I hardly think you’re one to talk.”

“Hey, I _never_ said I wasn’t strange as well,” protested Bull, mock-seriously. “But if you want one of those things for a pet, you’re definitely weirder than me.”

“While a dragon was _breathing fire at you_ , amatus.”

“That’s perfectly normal.” Bull’s eye gleamed. “Tell you what. I’ll let you have the abomination—”

“Exotic dog.”

“— _abominable_ exotic dog—if you let me get a dragon.”

“Hmm, let me think about that.” Dorian cocked his head to one side, pretending to consider it. “No. No, absolutely not. Think of the difficulties in getting insurance. Not to mention the size of the dung piles, ugh.”

Bull pursed his lips. “Hmm. You may have a point there.” He leaned forward to deposit the laptop on the coffee table. “Not that your _dog_ would be much better.”

“Sadly true,” conceded Dorian. “Pity. It really is a glorious colour.”

“You did notice the teeth and claws, right?”

“No-one is perfect. Well, except for me, of course.”

“Uh-huh.” Bull’s arm snaked around Dorian’s waist. “The other problem is that that _dog_ doesn’t actually exist.”

Dorian heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Why must you crush my dreams?”

“Perhaps you should pick some more realistic ones,” suggested Bull. “Like distracting your loving boyfriend from a minor annoyance.”

Dorian chuckled. He’d given up on trying to deceive Bull a _long_ time ago “Did it work?”

“Very well,” Bull assured him. “I’m currently considering several options for how to express my…appreciation.” His voice deepened a little, just enough to send an agreeable shiver down Dorian’s spine.

“As if you weren’t already looking for an excuse,” he managed. “Still, I suppose I can oblige you. Just let me put away the dishes…”

Bull’s arm tightened around him tightened. “Let them be. They’ll be there in the morning.”

“A sound metaphysical argument,” said Dorian. He swung over the back of the couch and into Bull’s waiting arms.


End file.
